Notes: This is a little something I wrote for Black Dragon Queen, author of the fabulously cracktastic epic "Cover Me." I've been following that story for a while and when she started hinting that she was going to pair Bluestreak with Motorhead, something about it made me infinitely pleased, even though I really had no idea who Motorhead was. The way she's writing it is just so gosh darn cute! 8D

So anyway, this is for her and every one should go read "Cover Me" so we can all keep the crack alive!

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"So, um…how about the weather?"

A shrug. "It's hot."

"See any good movies lately?"

"We've spent most of the time since we got here drivin'."

"Right…" A pause and an awkward fidget followed this, "Well, we have a lotta movies, so maybe some time we can watch one. And, um, by 'we' I mean a whole bunch of us, not just me and you unless you want it to be just me and you because I would totally be okay with that but I didn't want you to take it the wrong way and-"

"Why do I make you so nervous?"

Bluestreak started at the question, glancing over at his companion uncertainly. He was used to being cut off when he went off on a tangent; it was nothing new. Every one did it, since he talked so much. No, it was the rather direct question that surprised him and he squirmed a little, ducking his head as he answered. "Well…you're a 'Con."

"It has nothin' to do with that, though, does it?" Motorhead huffed a little, folding his arms, "'Cause you're not like this around the others. And I thought we were done with all this 'I'm an Autobot and you're a Decepticon' stuff."

"It's…complicated." Bluestreak cycled air through his vents, the gesture akin to a weary sigh. It wasn't that complicated, really. It did all boil down to the faction difference, but…the gunner didn't want to admit that and hurt the other mech's feelings.

"You're the one making it complicated." Motorhead took a step forward, closing the distance between them and invading Bluestreak's personal space. The Autobot took a step back, starting when his back hit the wall. Motorhead grinned, edging closer and planting a hand against the wall on either side of the nervous mech's head.

"Wha-what're you doing?" Bluestreak didn't move, just stared at him in half-frightened confusion. Part of him wanted to run off screaming; he was certain that this was it; the 'Con was going to slag him because he'd just been playing games all along. The other part of him thrilled at the close proximity; the danger; it was intoxicating.

"Don't worry." Another cocky grin and Motorhead brought his face closer to Bluestreak's, staring into those bright, innocent optics. "I ain't going to hurt you. 'M just gonna-"

"Bluestreak? Hey Blue, where are you?" A muffled voice, accompanied by the muted sound of footsteps, echoed down the hall. "Red wants you to help with…"

"Slag!" Motorhead didn't bother to wait and find out what Red Alert wanted or even who was coming. He just sprang back, guilty, and shuffled away from Bluestreak as quick as he could. It didn't matter to him that his companion was an Autobot. He didn't care about factions, but he knew that some of the Autobots were acutely aware of the difference and didn't want to take a chance on being caught molesting one of them in the hall.

Blaster found Bluestreak alone in the corridor, slumped against the wall and a bit dazed looking. He cocked his head curiously, peering at the younger mech. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing." Bluestreak mumbled when he'd recovered enough to find his voice, a hint of disappointment lacing his tone, "Absolutely nothing."